It is better to be hated for what you are than to be loved for something you are not~

Who are you?

Hate. Such a strong word…an emotion of strong revulsion. I cannot say I hate anyone, but I do have a strong dislike at times for short periods of time.  I don’t think it would do any good to hold on to feelings of hate…so I don’t…sure a day or two I might be bitching about hating something/someone then I’ll get over it.

Love…well that is the other extreme…an emotion that cannot be conveyed as easily as hate can. It runs the gamut from expression towards food to the benign such as shoes or ever more intense, a feeling for another.

Hate me for being a vile human but don’t love me for being a hypocrite. Too deep a quote….

But hey it’s Friday….and that means absolutely nothing in my world. My old crippled ass will be doing the same thing I’ve been doing since June of last year. I’ll be at home where I have no life, where I cannot cause any trouble out in the real world. If you ask what kind of trouble I could cause….well I breathe, that’s enough trouble right there….LOL…

I’ll probably do some reading, I’ve been laying off the TV, there really isn’t much on there to watch…I do need to try to find some movies to record so the boys won’t be terribly bored. Tonight will be steak and potatoes and if I get around to it I may bake a cake, haven’t baked a cake in a while.

I’ve also been back to entertaining the thought of moving…Calgon take me away….

So much randomness oh and I’ll be working on a new short for the Ex Files, this will be different but no so much, it comes from a reader….but chillingly familiar…I swear abusers are all the same, controlling, insecure and just jerks.

And I’m off….


“I don’t pretend to know what love is for everyone, but I can tell you what it is for me; love is knowing all about someone, and still wanting to be with them more than any other person, love is trusting them enough to tell them everything about yourself, including the things you might be ashamed of, love is feeling comfortable and safe with someone, but still getting weak knees when they walk into a room and smile at you.” – Author Unknown

I'll take # 8 ;o) ~~

Love is like chocolate…

Chocolate is love
Chocolate is love

Sometimes it’s rich, sometimes nutty, sometimes dark, sometimess light, but always meant to be savored in it’s moment….

 “I really don’t trust love,” a woman had told me earlier in the day, and in listening to her heartbreak, I understood where she was coming from. She had been hurt by significant people in the perilous venture of loving and being loved~

“I tried love one time and got burned so bad that I’ll never try it again,” a man informed me. We talked a long time about how we humans get confused about the difference between needing a person and loving a person and how hard it is sometimes to know the difference between gift-love and need-love~

Love is like chocolate...
Love is like chocolate...

Maybe love – authentic love – is kind of like dark chocolate. Maybe people don’t trust love because they’ve never experienced healthy, nourishing love.

Maybe people who don’t believe in love have only tasted love contaminated with additives of power, stinginess and manipulation, control, selfishness and pettiness. Perhaps people who can’t love were abandoned or treated cruelly by the same person who said, “I love you.”

It would be nice to be able to go into a shop and purchase love that isn’t tainted by human imperfection, but love can’t be bought and you can’t demand it from others.

The way forward may be in deciding to be the kind of person who gives love that is healthy, honest and clean, full of acceptance and flavored with delight in who the other person is instead of who you think he ought to be or who you want him to be for you.

Authentic love really is like good dark chocolate. It does cost more and you may have to develop a taste for it, but it satisfies the palate and it’s good for your heart.

It may take a lifetime to learn how to give love and receive it, but maybe learning how to love is our assignment while we’re here.

In the meantime, I can enjoy the 3 for $1.00 treats given to me by my sweetie….

Forgiving and Forgetting

You gave life times three

We didn’t ask for it

You did what was best

Maybe not best for us


There were beatings

There were ugly words

Sometimes from you

Sometimes from us


Lives filled with turmoil

Love lost or never had

Love was never taught

Love was never learned


Grown people on the outside

Small children on the inside

Searching for the ideal

Sometimes it seems surreal


Learning to let go

Easier said than done

Letting go of the hurt

Freeing the child within


We gave life times three

Ours didn’t ask for it

We do what is best

Maybe not best for us


There are no beatings

Sometimes there are ugly words

Sometimes from us

Sometimes from them


Lives filled with love

Love learned

Love taught

Love shared


Learning to let go

Learning to forgive

Learning to love

Learning to teach


Never forgetting the hurt

Never forgetting the past

The hurt teaches us

To love with all we have

One of them days

It’s like I left, where you may wonder, well that car I was riding in, I just opened the door and threw myself out fell out, I rolled a couple of times as I fell out, had some small pebbles and tarry gravel sticking to my back, my hair and half of my body, mainly on the left side as I laid there for a bit. I contemplated my fate, was I dead, or alive. Damn it I was still breathing, for what purpose I would keep breathing I hadn’t a clue. A laugh, rumbling, from deep within my belly erupted, I drew my knees up to my chest as I sat up on the side of the road, the laugh rolled out, manic, hysterical laughter, why am I laughing you may wonder. Well in all my ineptitude I chose to “fall out” when the car was rolling at a non injurious speed of 10 miles an hour. And the driver? Well he had no reason to stick around, his humiliation quite evident as his tires peeled off when he went past the stop sign at the town square.

I stood up, hands came up to my face, I surveyed the planes of my features, ran them down my cheeks, across my forehead, essentially wiping the dirt off of me, making sure no dirt would scratch my eyes if I rubbed them, there was blood on the side of my mouth, that didn’t come from striking my face as I tumbled out of the slow moving car, I bit my tongue, it is a bad habit, one which I am prone to when I over think.

I began walking, I had a couple of hours worth of walking ahead of me, I knew that car and it’s driver were not to return for me, that was a given, it was over, there was no forever and no for always, not for us. As a passenger in that car, a glimpse I caught when we had gone over the railroad tracks as we neared the busy town square, told me as much. Those dreams and promises made were now over; they had been over for a while. There were no ties binding us, nothing that was scrawled or typed up and filed a world away would keep us together.  I knew my feelings were no match for his, my feelings were impervious and would remain as such. The continued revelation of my feelings would not ever change the course of what was happening, I had tried, in my way I had tried, and in my way I failed, yet again. How many failures must I have to get it? Each failure is a renewed vow that it is the last failure, yet somehow I know that this failure is the last one. I’m not closing off that wall, those bricks I had so busily been erecting in the past, with meticulous precision in the order I placed them, well they’ll continue to stand. A monument of sorts a reminder of where I was, how far I got and how stuck I am destined to live until the end of time, yes, it started out as one of them days.

I continued down the road, cars passing me by, hands in my pockets, I felt around my right pocket, “Yes!” there was a couple of rumpled ones. I was immediately relieved, the day was hot and my walk was just beginning, I had enough to get a big bottle of water and a small bag of some salty chips. The walk back home would give me enough time to sort out my feelings and enough time for the car driver to get his things gathered and be gone by the time I got there.

What went wrong? That would be the question that would never quite have the answer to satisfy me. Plenty had gone wrong, but ultimately I knew the ins and outs, I was in and he was out, of love. Sure there was love, but loving someone can only carry you so far, there must be that special in, and it was no longer there.

There was no longer a point for tears, which was so exhausting, and quite frankly pointless. I had to focus on what I would have to do to get on with life, to be able to once again get in a car and not have a consuming desire to open the door and throw myself out. I started to laugh again, I could see me tumbling out and I could see him looking at me fall out, defeat, no he had satisfaction. My gift was perfect, I had no intention of providing that gift, it just happened to fall perfectly on his lap.

Just one of them days, with the blue skies, and the white clouds, with a mild breeze blowing, trees at a standstill, yeah one of them days.

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